


The Mountain Man & the City Boy

by kestra_troi



Series: More Likely Than You'd Think [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Awkward Boners, Awkward Conversations, Cabin Fic, Exhibitionism, Internal Conflict, Jon is a Writer, Jonmund Week, Jonmund Week 2020, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Pre-Slash, Public Nudity, Roommates, Sexuality Crisis, Slice of Life, Unresolved Sexual Tension, outdoor showering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: Struggling to get his next book written, Jon rents a cabin in the woods to get away. He should’ve read the description for this place more carefully. He’s never had much luck with roommates.Jonmund Week Day 3: AU.
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Series: More Likely Than You'd Think [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674997
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	The Mountain Man & the City Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This was to be a prelude to smut, but the smut never happened, so here ya go, just a slice of life peek into a Modern AU.

The coffee was still warm by the time Jon rolled out of bed and ambled downstairs. He poured himself a mug while holding his writing laptop tucked up under his arm. Foregoing the sugar, Jon added a little cream and took a sip and sighed. His roommate may be a loud, vulgar, and obnoxious cretin, but he certainly knew how to brew some damn good coffee. It was so good Jon had to take a moment to stand in the kitchen and savor a few more sips, shivering slightly as the warmth moved down his body and brought him properly to life. He topped off his cup then headed out onto the porch to start his day.

Birds twittered in the trees as they did seemingly every morning out here in the wilderness. Otherwise, the place was peaceful and quiet, devoid of human activity. His roommate was nowhere in sight, which was exactly what he had wanted when he arranged this little writing getaway: total seclusion. Jon took a deep breath of the fresh air. The summer sun was already up, burning away the coolness of the morning, but it wasn’t too hot yet. Paradise. 

In the shade of the awning that covered the wrap-around porch the temperature was perfect thanks to the light breeze that was steadily blowing. With his cup of coffee, and the breeze, and no intrusive roommate around, he could probably manage to stay outside and work for a couple hours at least. Plenty of time to do some quality writing.

Taking his time, Jon wandered down the length of the porch and took the corner at a languid pace. The best view the cabin had to offer was at a small, cast iron table and chairs that faced east. The cabin had been built off to the side of a clearing instead of in the middle, leaving the west side besieged by trees, while the side Jon chose was left with a decent bit of distance from the wildlife and greenery. This was the perfect spot to sit and enjoy his surroundings without the odd feeling of claustrophobia that the trees had inexplicably brought on. 

Jon set down his laptop on the glass topped patio table and walked over to the wooden porch railing coffee in hand. The day was beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky and no sounds of car horns or trains or airplanes. No pestering agents or ringing phones or emails laden with looming schedules and missed deadlines. 

Smiling softly, he took a quick look of the vista around him and sipped at his coffee. From this vantage point the clearing was clearly not built on a piece of flat land. Here on the east side, just beyond the porch the land gave way to a gentle slope that led down towards the treeline, giving one the impression that they were slightly elevated; a little above the world, peeking in... 

From the corner of his eye, Jon spotted movement down by the trees. 

A shock of red hair standing out brightly against the natural backdrop. 

Bubble burst, his smile faded. 

Jon turned his head and found his seemingly gone roommate being decidedly not as gone as he had hoped. Jon halfheartedly glared at the man, squinting as if he could erase the man from existence with his mind. That’s when he noticed. He was wet. Jon refocused his eyes. 

Tormund was showering. Out in the open. Naked! Flushing pink, Jon quickly glanced away. Who built an outdoor shower without installing a privacy wall? Or at bare minimum a shower curtain? Obviously, a man who lived alone in the middle of nowhere.

“Morning!”

Jon raised his eyes again to find Tormund waving hello. Weakly smiling in return Jon offered back a stilted, half-wave. Tormund beamed at him lifting his arm to soap his pit, seemingly undisturbed with being naked and wet in front of another man. One he had only met a week ago. The man grinned at him as if they were old friends.

“Unbelievable,” Jon muttered under his breath. He’d done sport all through his schooling as most of the boys in his family did, so he’d been around naked men before. But this? This was different, somehow.

This man had no shame. 

He went about his business unhurried and unconcerned with any sense of propriety. He even soaped up his junk without having the decency to turn away and face the trees or at least not keep facing Jon’s direction. Tormund just stood under the spray and cleaned himself as leisurely as you please. No modesty. And no manscaping. Just fine, red hair all over his chest sloping down all the way to his untrimmed bush and his giant--

Blushing a dozen shades of red, Jon yanked his eyes away and whirled around on his feet, his coffee sloshing in his mug threatening to spill out. In a rush, he gathered up his laptop and hightailed it back the way he came. He could set the computer in his lap and do his work just as well from the front porch swing. 

At least, that’s what he told himself.

“It’s too early in the morning for this,” he mumbled, taking a big swig of his severely cooled coffee. He made a sour face and chugged the rest. How long had he been out here? How long had he been  _ staring _ ?

The front porch. Disappointing since he had a view of nothing but his own car. Jon set his empty mug on the porch railing and then seated himself on the two-person swing. The chains that anchored the swing to the ceiling, clanked against each other at his sudden arrival. The creak of the swing took over. 

Jon opened and booted up his laptop. He typed in his password. Once the home screen loaded he selected the one document he had waiting for him on his desktop besides all the folders and apps. 

He stared blankly at the text he had written last week and scrolled down to the bottom of the document. He left three lines of blank space and then looked out at his underwhelming, uninspiring car. He waited. 

His fingers tapped idly at the keys to keep his computer from falling asleep. He watched a bird jump down from one branch onto another and then take off into the clear skies. He tracked the bird until it flew overhead. And he waited. 

Brow furrowed, Jon scowled at his computer. 

The words he’d woken up with, the inspiration that had drawn him from the warm blankets of his rented bed, were gone. Disappeared. Vanished. All because of Tormund! And the shock of seeing him in all his glory. A most disturbing scene to accidentally happen upon. Jon fidgeted in the swing and cleared his throat refusing to acknowledge the chubby he was suddenly sporting.

“Oi, there, pretty boy,” Tormund called as he strolled around the corner. “Hard at work?”

“Ye--” Jon’s reply died on his tongue. He meant to glare at his inconsiderate roommate, to make him feel guilty for ruining his inspiration, but the man was still naked. Naked as the day he was born and using his towel to dry his hair. Jon shut his mouth and cleared his throat again going back to staring blankly at his computer screen.

“You had breakfast, yet?”

“Just some coffee,” Jon mumbled, indicating the empty mug. Tormund seemed in no hurry to cover up, draping his damp towel over his neck instead of tying it around his waist like any normal person would. 

“I’ll whip us up some eggs,” he announced. “Scrambled alright?”

“Uh,” Out of his periphery, Jon sneaked another peek at Tormund just to assure himself that the man was still naked and still a menace and still hung like a horse. He was, of course. Not that Jon cared. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good. I harvested my honey this morning so we can have some on our toast. You ever had fresh, unprocessed honey?”

Making some noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, Jon shook his head. This whole morning had turned into an awkward disaster. Back home in the city among the circles of the social elite his family traveled in, he was the one that turned things sour. He was the one who was awkward and out of sorts and generally considered a bore. The weak link of the Stark clan. 

But at least  _ he  _ had boundaries!

“Ah, then you’re in for a real treat, city boy,” Tormund gently teased. He sauntered over and clapped a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “You’re about to get your first taste of some real, honest-to-goodness honey.”

His pelvis was right next to Jon’s face. His cock was right there. Jon was practically smushed into the man’s untamed pubes, at eye level with the man’s crotch. How is one supposed to handle things like this? 

Jon bit his lip, studiously trying to avoid looking to his right and rolled his shoulder dislodging Tormund’s giant hand. 

“You’re much too tense, pretty boy,” Tormund proclaimed. “A good fuck would do you wonders.”

Craning his neck around Jon stared up at Tormund in disbelief. This man was crass and rude and...just completely out of bounds! “There’s no one around for miles,” he pointed out.

“ _ We’d _ have to make do with what we got.” Tormund winked at him and Jon sat there gaping open-mouthed like a fish. “You’re prettier than both my daughters. You’d do very well.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Jon stared daggers at his lumbering, inappropriate roommate. This was worse than locker room talk. Worse than the ribbing he always got from other men about his looks. “No,” he replied, through his clenched jaw. “Thank you.”

Tormund shrugged. “Your loss, pretty boy. I’ll go get breakfast started.” He lowered his voice and added, “Try not to stare at my ass too long while I walk away.”

“Wha--I-I wouldn’t,” Jon insisted. Tormund chuckled under his breath and turned towards the door. Jon watched him disappear into the darkened interior of the cabin, those pale, chiseled cheeks flexing and bouncing a bit with his every step. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words materialized. He blinked dumbly, the negative image of Tormund’s backside burned into his retinas, purely by accident. 

“I’m not gay,” Jon muttered to himself. He buried his face back into his computer to find it locked and asleep. Jon booted the thing up once more heaving a disgruntled sigh. He logged back in and the word document was still sat there, the text pointer blinking slowly, demanding to be put to use. Nothing came. 

Unable to find the words he wanted, Jon scrolled back to the top of the document and glanced fleetingly over his work. He added a word here. Changed a punctuation mark, there. But grammar was not foremost on his mind. Images of Tormund and his anatomy crowded out everything else. 

Jon slammed his laptop closed. This was pointless! He wasn’t writing. He was barely even editing. He was getting no work done. And all because of Tormund! Tormund the Giant, Obnoxious, Hippie-dippie, Redheaded Mountain Man With A Gross Beard and An Obscenely Large Penis and No Understanding of Personal Space That Had An Ass Like Marble! Jon crossed his legs and waited for his erection to go down. He prayed to the gods it wouldn’t take long. And he quickly tacked on how he hoped Tormund would’ve found some clothes by the time he joined him for breakfast, but also not.

He closed his eyes. He was so screwed.


End file.
